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None of y'all can hang |
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None of y'all can hang [repeated] |
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[VERSE 1] |
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Hype! You better pipe down, or a fight's found |
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I know you can tear the mic down - huh, sike, clown |
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Say I'm phony like Christmas cause I twist this |
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Diss and hiss this, I'm pissed, come and kiss this |
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Butt of mine, you ain't but a blind muthafucka |
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Duck tail, one tail, dum tail, try to run, snail |
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Untangle your dreadlock, I mean deadlock |
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I'ma rock and hope your ears get the point like Mr. Spock |
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Them sucker wack rappers whippersnappers think I'm new to this |
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I been true to this, give me somethin to chew to this |
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Like bubble gum bums that think I can't hum to a slow drum |
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Don't think I know where I come from, dumb-dumb, uhm - |
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I flow to rhythms of all sorts, different sports |
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Give me some pants with them hands, I ain't takin shorts |
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Tired of them tiny turds and nerds, absurd words |
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I think I rock too quick, cause at my pace they ain't heard words |
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But I know one thang |
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None of y'all can hang |
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None of y'all can hang |
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None of y'all can hang [repeated] |
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[VERSE 2] |
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My style I kick, "You're flowin too quick" |
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That's what I hear from the vicks |
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I bet I don't flow as quick as you lick chicks |
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Please, think I'm sweater than peas? I flick em like fleas |
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At ease, and even overseas they flip over these |
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Scall, I break em like a fall, my lead stops em all |
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I put em in headlocks, dreadlocks and all |
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I'ma scuff vicks with lyrical ruff tricks |
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Tuff kicks, put em at the end like a suffix |
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You better maxwell and get smart |
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Cause I'ma flow and kill em and let the angels play the harp |
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I'm sharp, Tung, I be rollin like bicycles, I slice pickles |
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Should I say cucumbers, newcomers, I flip em like nickels |
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And dimes, cause nickel-and-dime rhymes I find from blind minds |
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This time they all wanna diss mine |
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Why? Because I let the funky lyricals fly like this |
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Come get with the lyrical manifest that'll be flowin, and I |
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Rock, they still wanna diss a pro because of my quicker flow |
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You suckers get played like a piccolo |
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And I let you know one thang |
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None of y'all can hang |
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None of y'all can hang |
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None of y'all can hang [repeated] |
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[VERSE 3] |
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Check, hope you're ready, singers, for steady ringers |
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And humdingers, bum slingers cut from Freddy's fingers |
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Slice, nice, twice: he sliced ice and sliced mics with spice |
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So precise, don't sacrifice, take my advice |
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Jihad is on the twelves turnin giants to elves |
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Puttin twelves on the shelves, makin em hate themselves |
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Cuts like his, you lack that |
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Records were tossed, and then he crossed the fader like a black cat |
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Holdin the beat like a hostage |
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Think it's a joke? Try to poke, then suckers get smoked like a sausage |
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DJ Jihad be stickin cats |
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Turnin em sucker ducks' cuts into chicken scratch |
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...get the catch? |
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Suckers' hearts are ripped apart |
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For tryin to get with the god Jihad |
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Punk, that wasn't smart |
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Yo, ain't it a damn shame? |
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None of y'all can hang |
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None of y'all can hang |
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None of y'all can hang [repeated] |
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(Get busy) |
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(Get busy) |
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(Get busier) |
